The Adventures of Everyone's Favorite Cowboy
by Mister Cydonia
Summary: A series of short, digestible one-shots all centered around our favorite cowboy: Jesse McCree.
1. Episode 1: American Sports

Jesse McCree breathed out of his mouth heavily, his hand hovering near his revolver. With his brown eyes peeking just under his hat, his focus was pointed directly at the man in front of him. The man—who was holding a sharp knife to the throat of a young kidnapped child—had just robbed the bank in Dorado, stealing almost everything inside. He killed about five, and McCree was not going to allow him to add another line to the tally.

"I suggest ye put 'er down," McCree said confidently, his gaze not moving from the man. The robber was visually nervous. The cowboy noticed that sweat fell from his forehead as his eyes darted around the place. McCree was sure that this was the first ever proper standoff that the man had been in, so the odds were in the cowboy's favor.

"I suggest you get on your way, stranger," The robber said shakily. His hand was unsteady as he held the knife to the young girl's throat. He made sure to press the knife against the girl's throat deep enough to scare the onlookers, but not enough to cause blood to drip. At this point, the hostage's green eyes were filled with tears, and cries of fear exited her mouth every other second.

"Oh, ye know I can't do that," McCree said, a big smile crossing his lips. With a gasp from the crowds, a loud gunshot echoed off the chamber of the Dorado streets, and in a flash of less than a second, the man lay there—motionless. With her heart beating heavily and tears streaming down her face, the young girl cried and fell to the ground just like the robber, crying.

Walking over to the young girl, the Cowboy leaned down to her side. Smiling, he looked down to the girl and patted her back as he spoke to her, saying, "don't ye worry, lil' lady. Everything'll be all right."

"Thank you!" She said, looking up at and hugging him. This surprised the cowboy on many levels, for he had never been in such a situation before. Also to the surprise of McCree was the fact that everyone cheered for him. _That's the first._ He thought. _Not many people cheer for the supposed bad guy, 'specially after the Blackwatch incident._ It certainly was.

Ever since his involvement in Overwatch, the cowboy had always been disregarded as an outlaw, even though he proved time and time again that he wasn't. Through the years after Overwatch, McCree learned that people's minds change on a dime, so there was no point in sticking around in Dorado, as by the time that next week rolls around, he'd be considered the bad guy once again.

Nonetheless, McCree looked down upon the little girl and chuckled. It was time for him to go back to Route 66, where bad guys were respected and feared, especially in the case of the Deadlock Gang; however, that's another story for another time. Removing himself from the girl's arms, McCree stood and returned his treasured weapon—which was the 'Peacekeeper' as he called it—to its holster that hung loosely from his belt.

Looking at the crowds surrounding him, McCree bowed sarcastically with a chuckle before turning back to the girl with a wink, saying, "I'll see ye around, lil' lady, and if anyone comes at ye, just holler my name.'

"I'll… I'll be sure to…" She said, managing to put a smile on her face. Although she had just been in perhaps the most fearful moment in her life, the cowboy's comment managed to turn her frown upside down. Chuckling one last time before turning to leave, McCree sighed and walked from the scene, his name still unknown to those that witnessed the heroic action.


	2. Episode 2: One for the Road

The bar was quiet and generally unappealing with its dim lights and unimpressive alcohol. Whatever the fact, here McCree was, drinking alone for the umpteenth time in a small bar where nobody knew anyone else. This was the perfect place for the cowboy to hunker down in, for nobody knew of the outlaw that seemed to crash in a new bar every night. Regardless, McCree crossed his arms on the dirty bartop, resting his head atop his arms.

Groaning, one of the drawbacks to having a cybernetic arm was that it was metal, making it uncomfortable to sleep on. And if there was one thing that McCree did, it was resting on his arms. Sighing, the cowboy grabbed his whiskey and yawned, looking around the depressing atmosphere before walking to one of the many booths in the back. Taking his place on the uncomfortable seats, McCree put his feet atop the wooden table and pulled his hat over his eyes. He sighed one last time before he tried to let sleep carry him away.

It'd been a long day, and the cowboy was determined on getting a good nights sleep, even though those weren't common these previous few days. With his eyes closed and his mind absent, McCree sat there in the booth in the very back of the bar. As he lay there, however, the sounds of feet stepping across the creaky wooden floorboards of the bar seemed to come closer. They seemed to stop at the edge of the booth, but the cowboy paid no heed to the sounds, hoping that it was just a passerby.

"Well, well, well," The instantly recognizable voice struck a chord in McCree's ears, causing him to sigh and move his hat out of the way. Looking up at the figure, a smirk crept its way onto his face. The woman looked down upon McCree condescendingly, her eyebrows raised and arms crossed.

"I didn't expect ye to be here in this mess of a town," McCree said, not removing his feet from the small table.

"Yet, I fully expected someone like you to be here," The woman said, her face staying stern. She removed her arms from their formerly crossed position, placing her palms on the table so she could more easily slide into the seat opposite McCree.

"Heh," McCree fake laughed as he removed his feet from the table and propped himself upright, "what is it that ye want, Sombra?"

Sombra and McCree met in a bar somewhere in the world. Although he knew that she was part of Talon, they quickly became rather good friends, especially when all the cowboy's other friends wanted his head on a platter. Sombra, though, didn't care for McCree. She just saw him a drunkard with a good shot and a flashbang, and she knew that she didn't want to be on the receiving end of either of those things.

"Just to share a drink, amigo," Sombra responded, tapping her fingers against the table's hard surface, "that, and I just want to know what you've been up to."

"Oh?" McCree said, raising an eyebrow. Although they were the most unlikely of friends, McCree couldn't help but be suspicious of her motives. After all, she is part of Talon, and she is infamous for blackmailing many people. Regardless, he couldn't just sit here silently, "how 'bout that drink, darlin'?"

"It's been a while since we last talked," Sombra said, avoiding the question, "but I've heard that you've been caught up in business in Dorado."

"Yeh," McCree grunted, "maybe I have. It's hard to just watch things go by without getting involved. You of all people should know that."

"Hah," Sombra laughed. She followed the laugh by mocking the man, saying, "very funny, cowboy, although I only wanted to hear about the spectacular adventures of the space cowboy."

McCree crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in response, "what's it that ye really want?"

"Just a drink and some time to catch up with an old friend," Sombra said, leaning back in the chair and crossing her legs, "after all, it's been what? Two, three years since I've last seen you?"

"Two and a half," McCree responded, leaning on the table with elbows, "also, who's payin' for the drink?"

"You know," Sombra said, responding to the question, "it's rude to make a lady pay for her own drink."

"Well," McCree retorted, "Yer no lady."

Laughing, Sombra raised an eyebrow before standing, "All right, cowboy. What is it that your drunk ass wants anyway?"

"Just make it another whiskey," McCree said before taking a swig of the now warm whiskey that stood on the table. Pulling his hat down over his eyes and placing his feet back upon the table, the cowboy looked back up at Sombra, saying, "oh, and make sure to get me one for the road."


	3. Episode 3: Roter Sand

"It's high noon," McCree said, his words echoing off the rocky cliffs that surrounded the road known as Route 66. He was standing atop Big Earl's, his hand waving around his weapon. He was waiting for the perfect chance to pull the trigger. He only had a few seconds until he would be noticed and denied of the shot, so he had to take it soon. Sweat dripping down his forehead, he took only a moment to look down at a small rival gang, whom had their hands full with Ashe and Bob—his cohorts for this particular mission.

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_

The shots rang throughout the echoey chamber. He stood there for a moment, his hand gripping his Peacekeeper's handle tightly with another hand hovering above the hammer. Lifting the weapon to his lips, he blew the smoke from the barrel before swiping it back to his scabbard in one swift motion.

"How'd ye like them apples, Ashe?" He asked dryly, jumping down from the building's roof and onto the road.

"I wouldn't get too cocky, McCree," She responded, rolling her eyes at the redundant question. "Besides, without me, you would've been toast."

"Eh," McCree said, chuckling a little bit, "I wouldn't say I needed ye, but I 'preciate the help."

They stood there in the middle of the bloodstained stand, looking down at the bodies. The Deadlock Gang—which was lead by the infamous Ashe—had seen a score, and they couldn't resist. Weapons, explosives, and experimental devices filled various crates that Bob had started packing onto the large platform that they used to transport things like these.

"What should we do with the bodies?" McCree asked, lightly kicking one of them to make sure it was either fully out or dead. He grimaced at the smell of the bodies. _Why do gang members always have to smell like they haven't taken a bath in years?_ He thought while waving the air around his nose.

"Leave 'em here," Ashe responded, "let's make a lesson out of them for the other gangs. After all, this is what you get for attacking the Deadlock Gang."

McCree and Ashe disagreed on many things involving the Deadlock Gang; however, they could never truly disagree. After all, they were like brother and sister. She always had his back, and he always had hers. If something unfortunate were to happen to one, you could damn well determine that the other would be there too in the middle of it. Regardless, McCree and Ashe were almost inseparable… _almost_.

"I'll see you later, Jesse," The cowgirl said as she got onto her bike, "Make sure Bob doesn't screw up the shipment, will you?"

"I'll try," He said, chuckling a little bit before turning to Bob, who had tilted his head at the comment. Ashe tipped her hat at the cowboy and sped off towards the Deadlock Gang's hideout. McCree shook his head at the woman before turning back to Bob. "Well, ye best get on with it, Bob. Wouldn't want t' disappoint the lady, would ye?"

At this, Bob immediately went back to loading the cart, leaving McCree to reminisce upon his times with Ashe. _Boy, were they good times, huh?_ McCree thought, grinning at the memories he had with her. They had met in the most unfortunate circumstances. He had been caught stealing from her manor by the young woman—who was in her late teens at the time. Luckily for him, Ashe's family had been gone, so she was alone with the omnic butler.

Ashe told the ruffian that she knew she wasn't meant for the lavish lifestyles that her family brought her into. Instead, she knew that she was destined to get down and dirty with the best of them. Because of this, she said that she'd tag along with McCree for a few weeks. After these few weeks, Ashe had determine that she was called for this life, not the life of wealth and power of her parents. So McCree and Ashe ran off, obviously taking Bob with them.

Ashe—who had grown tired of all the infighting between the gangs that filled the American Southwest—decided to take command of the situation, banding all the gangs together under one banner: the Deadlock Gang banner. Power changed people, and McCree saw this first-hand. However, it was different with Ashe. She'd already been changed with power since a young kid, so she stayed the same way of when McCree met her. Glad that she had taken the position of leading the Deadlock Gang, McCree was happy to stay behind the scenes, for he was never one to take control of a situation.

And throughout these years, McCree and Ashe stayed as close friends.

"Bob, let's pack up and go," McCree told the butler, breaking from his memories. Bob looked at McCree and nodded before starting up the transporter. The cowboy climbed onto his bike and nodded towards Bob with a smile, saying, "good luck on getting that to Ashe, and I'll see ye later."

The bike sped off down the road, leaving Bob alone with the cargo. Chuckling to himself as he rode on Route 66, he couldn't but smile at the memories.


End file.
